Straddling the Line by Sarah M. Anderson

panic melted into warmth. All kinds of hot.
    “Hi, girls,” he said with a cautious wave. At least he was trying not to be scary. She gave him a few extra bonus points for that. And the way his jacket fit his chest.
    “Hey!” Suddenly, thunderous footsteps echoed down the hallway. “Who the hell are you?”
    As if this situation could get any worse, Don Two Eagles burst into the room. Ben had the good sense to get the heck out of the way—without getting any closer to the kids.
    “Hey, wasicu, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
    That, in a nutshell, was why she should not even be attracted to Ben. God forbid, if she acted on that attraction, she’d run a real risk of having people like Don treating her just like this. A few of the braver girls giggled at the Lakota word for white devil —that, and Don’s tendency to cuss no matter who was listening.
    “Don,” Josey said in her meanest polite voice, “this is Ben Bolton. He’s here to take a tour of the school.” She shot a glare at Ben for good measure. Although he didn’t look the least bit concerned by this new development, he played along and nodded.
    Don cranked his head to one side, cracking several joints at once. “Bolton? As in Bruce Bolton, the chopper guy?”
    “That would be my father.” Ben managed to sound cool, but he took a wary step back. A man like Ben Bolton wouldn’t be afraid. He would, however, have a healthy respect for the situation. “You know him?”
    Don cranked his head to the other side. More popping. “I broke my hand on his face back in ’87.” He unnecessarily cracked his knuckles, as if he wouldn’t mind breaking his hand on another Bolton.
    So that’s why Don had argued so vehemently against her going to Crazy Horse Choppers in the first place. It was personal—going back twenty-five years.
    “Sturgis? ’87?” Ben didn’t even look a little intimidated. In fact, the grin on his face said he was amused. “You’re the one who broke his jaw? He was wired shut for a month after that. Most peaceful month of my life.” Ben advanced on Don. Now it was the older man’s turn to be confused. “Let me shake your hand, Mr….”
    Don glared at Ben for a moment before he returned the grasp. “Don Two Eagles. I’m the shop teacher and coach.” He looked at Josey as if to say, what the heck? All she could do was shrug. Now that she’d met the senior Bolton, she had to admit she was equally impressed that Don had knocked him down. Even if he had broken his hand doing it.
    “A real pleasure.” Ben seemed to mean it, too. He pumped Don’s hand and gave him a hearty slap on the back. “Not too many men have put my old man down for the count.” He chuckled, like this was some cosmic joke. “I’d steer clear of the shop if I were you, though.”
    “I ride Harleys,” Don said, as if that would somehow make this whole interaction less weird.
    Ben grinned, perfectly at ease. “Miss White Plume and I didn’t get a chance to finish our conversation about donations for the school when we last met. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by—I wanted to see the school for myself.” He turned a huge, almost blinding smile to her. She barely recognized him.
    It all sounded great—perfect even—but the buddy-buddy smile didn’t match what his eyes were saying. His eyes were saying, I wanted to see you.
    Her insides got a little melty.
    “Yes—a tour.” She forced herself to look away from Ben’s contradictory face. “He wanted to be sure that we got what we actually needed.”
    Another lie—because she was pretty sure, from the way Ben looked at her, that what he needed was some wildly hot sex.
    Don’s wrinkled face was full of doubt. “Wačhíŋmayaya hwo?” Do you need me?
    “Taŋyáŋ naúŋžiŋpe ló.” No, we’re okay. She felt bad about using Lakota in front of Ben—it was exceptionally rude—but the last thing she needed right now was Don to get his nose bent any further out of shape. Plus,